


Kinder Gentler Machine Gun Hand

by The_Reverend, thefilthiestpiglet



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Body Modification, Bottom Bucky Barnes, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra Holiday Trash Party Gift Exchange 2020, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Past Rape/Non-con, fuckpotato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Reverend/pseuds/The_Reverend, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefilthiestpiglet/pseuds/thefilthiestpiglet
Summary: Steve gets a mysterious note.Bucky asks Steve for something he can't give.Steve makes the easiest and hardest choice of his life.Bucky asks Steve for something he *can* give.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75
Collections: Hydra Holiday Trash Party Gift Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whatitsaysonthetin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatitsaysonthetin/gifts).



> Here's a bit of art for the forthcoming fic from The_Reverend! Happy New Year!


	2. Kinder Gentler Machine Gun Hand chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatitsaysonthetin.  
> Thanks for your patience and thanks to piglet for the mission assist.  
> RL is a drag,  
> Full Metal Jacket, llc is a real shop and everyone should check out their webpage. The snark!

“Bucky!!”

Steve wakes up, hearing his own scream echoing back at him. 

He’s alive, which means,  _ Where is Bucky? _

There are hands on him immediately, but they are both soft and warm. Not Bucky. 

A voice is saying something in soothing tones, but it’s not Bucky’s.

He hears his own panicked gasping as he tries again,  _ “Where’s Bucky?” _

“Easy man, easy. Take a breath, you almost died. It’s Sam. You’re in a hospital, you’re okay.”

Sam is using his counselor voice which means Steve must look as strung out as he feels.

“Sam.”

“That’s right, that’s good, come back to us, try to calm down.”

“Sam.” He realizes he’s gripping Sam’s arms as Sam leans over his bed, likely too tightly. He tries to let go but his fingers won’t cooperate. “What-”

Suddenly Sam’s face fills his field of vision and Steve realizes there’s bustling and beeping and other people in the room.

“ _ Steve.  _ You trust me, right?” 

He tries to control his eyes’ darting as he looks at his friend. He nods.

“There we go. Good man. Watch me, breathe in…” Sam starts taking him through grounding exercises. Had he been hyperventilating? He follows instructions and feels his heartbeat slow. 

“Good, that’s real good. I know you’re confused. I’ll answer your questions. But first let’s let the doctors and nurses do what they gotta, okay?” 

He nods again, still holding Sam’s gaze. He answers the questions from the doctors mechanically but thoroughly, keeping his eyes on Sam the whole time. When only one nurse remains, who is apparently “refreshing” his dressings and checking stitches, Steve beckons Sam back over to the bed. “Talk.”

“Well, like the doctor said, you got shot three times, and-” 

Steve grimaces and waves that away. “Not about me. I don’t care what happened. Did you see him?”

“The Winter Soldier?”

“Bucky.” Steve corrects.

“You got a one-track mind, dude.” Sam sounds a little sad. “Nobody’s seen him, we assume he went down with the helicarrier.”

“No. He saved me. He pulled me out of the water. He did it, Sam, he broke through, he knew me.”

“Broke your face is what he did. Were you listening when the doctors ran through your injuries?”

“I  _ know  _ that Sam, I’m not saying he didn’t. But he also  _ saved  _ me. I would have drowned if he didn’t pull me out. The last thing I saw was him reaching down, his arm, his face...he brought me to shore. Why did he leave then?”

Sam sits down heavily, swiping over his face. “Okay, so this is news. You say he saved you, I believe you. Your boy is alive, that’s good. But we have no idea what state he’s in, mentally or physically. I mean, it’s great that he saved you, but he also tried to kill you. And almost succeeded. Guy was an actual killing machine for Hydra. Wait, I’m just saying, we need to know, who are we dealing with, your boy, or the assassin?”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to find him, either way.”

“Steve, man, I’m with you on this. But it does matter who we’re going after and how we’re gonna do it. And whether he wants to be found.”

Steve grinds his teeth, but Sam is right. 

“We’re gonna need some help on this. We don’t know where to start looking. So you work on getting yourself all healed up. I’ll work on getting us some backup.”

Steve goes to sit up but Sam is out of his chair, pushing him back in a flash.

“Nuh uh, Superman. I told you I’d get help but that’s contingent on you doing your part.” 

Steve winces, he knows what’s coming. “Sam, I’m-”

“Lucky to be alive, is what you are. You’re not indestructible. You looking to die again? Man, all you have to do is rest. Just wait here. Trust me. Let me do the running around, and then once you’re sprung we’ll go look for your boy. Together. Can you do that for me? Can you care about your own well-being for once and let your body heal?” At Steve’s tight expression, he knows he has to play the ace.

“You’re no good to him, man, if you’re unconscious or dead.”

Steve thumps his head back into the pillows and Sam knows he’s won.

“Don’t make me call that nurse back in here and have him threaten you, huh? All I’m asking you to do is give me a day, okay? Let me see what I can dig up, let me update Romanoff, I’ll even bring some gear back here for you. Deal?”

Sam is looking at him hopefully and holding out his hand. Steve knows his friend has his best interests in mind, but Steve’s first priority will always be Bucky.

He takes the offered hand. “Okay, Sam. I’ll wait here. A day. But that’s all I can wait.  _ He’s out there.” _

Sam moves his other hand to Steve’s shoulder. “I understand the need for speed. I do. But Steve, we almost lost you. You’re not in this alone, let me help you and hopefully we all make it in one piece to see you guys get your happy ending. Just promise me that you’ll rest, let them pump you full of fluids, and I'll be back tonight with everything I know.”

Steve swallows hard. “Thank you, Sam, I do appreciate it. It’s just, I’m all that he has. And he broke through for me. And...and…”

“And you love him?” Sam states quietly. “It’s okay you know.”

Steve’s jaw tics and he looks away, but squeezes Sam’s hand in his. “We can’t let him down.”

“We won’t. Between me and the Widow, you’re gonna have the best backup ever, right?”

Steve can’t resist Sam’s blinding grin and offers him a small smile. “Right. Thanks Sam. You’re the best.”

The nurse returns just in time, in Sam’s opinion. “You keep an eye on my man here, yeah?”

“Sir, yes, only the best for the Captain. I’ll see to it myself.”

Sam nods. “You hear that? Give this guy an autograph or something, Rogers. I’ll be back tonight.”

“Thanks again, Sam. Please hurry.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite his intentions, Steve manages to drift off to sleep at one point. He is still achy and can feel his body healing itself, but the headache and dehydration are starting to abate. He decides to try sitting up now that Sam isn’t there to stop him. 

He pushes up and is startled to feel there’s paper clutched in his hand. Had Sam been back? 

He opens his fist to find a tightly folded piece of paper. 

Scrawled on one side is a set of coordinates and the words  **Barnes is here.**

Steve is on his feet before he registers moving. He feels shockingly weak as his head spins from the sudden movement and his gut and thigh burn as the stitches pull. He pokes his head outside, but there’s no sign of anyone in or around his room except for the very eager guard he’s been introduced to last night. He peers down the hallway, paper clenched in his hand, but he sees nothing that feels amiss.

“Everything all right, Captain? Can I get you anything?” He asks the second Steve shows his face.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. Just...waiting for my friend to visit.” He lies quickly. “Nobody came in here while I was asleep, did they? Did I miss him?”

“Not on my watch, Captain.” The agent says overconfidently. “You’ll know the second anyone comes near this room.” 

“Roger that. Carry on.” He gives the man a small salute, which as always, delights him. He ducks back inside and sits gingerly on the bed to study the note.

Who is this from? It has all the hallmarks of Nick’s cloak and dagger, but it’s not his handwriting. It’s not Nat or Sam’s or Maria’s either, and that rounds out the people on his side who know.

Who else knows Bucky is alive? Or who the Winter Soldier even is? Rumlow was crushed, Pierce was dead, most of what remained of the clusterfuck of  _ Shieldra _ , as Sam called it, were captured or running scared. Could some Hydra minion be trying to defect by supplying Captain America with his most coveted intel? Someone knew to bring this information to him. Even if they were lying about Bucky being there, which Steve’s gut says they’re not, it’s still the only lead he has. He’s done more on less.

It’s likely that this is a trap, but it’s coming from someone who knows.

Someone who knows who Bucky is to him.

He leaves the hospital. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People forget that as big as Steve is, he’s trained in evasion tactics and infiltration. They also tend to be blinded by the uniform du jour, so dressed down, he can blend if he wants to. 

They also forget that he got his start by breaking and entering. Sure, the constant surveillance of modern technology makes the  _ breaking _ part a little more challenging, but once you disable the camera or alarm, the  _ entering  _ part is a breeze since hardly anyone keeps actual guards around anymore.

He’d slipped out past the guard and snagged some ill-fitting scrubs fairly easily, the surgical booties hiding his bare feet. Stealing cars has actually become  _ easier  _ with the use of the electronic starter fobs. He doesn’t have to move from car to car to find one he can hotwire, he just needs to steal a set of keys, then let them lead him to the running getaway vehicle.

The car itself has a GPS, which he uses to find an army/navy supply store, of which DC has a plethora. He decides to cross the bridge into Alexandria, partly to put distance between himself and the hospital and partly because he recognizes the name from the “really authentic” war movie Tony had insisted he watch.

He makes quick work of the security systems of Full Metal Jacket, LLC. If Tony could see him now, on a spree of theft. 

People forget that Steve is also a tactical genius. He’s here to get the gear he’ll need to walk into whatever Hydra ( _ because who else can it be)  _ has planned. It’s why he can’t risk bringing Sam or Nat or anyone else along. Besides, it’s not the first time he’s charged in to Nazi territory alone to save Bucky. Just because he can use his body in ways others can’t, can act as a human shield, doesn’t mean he’s actually an idiot. 

Fuck. His shield. It’s likely still at the bottom of the Potomac. He adds body armor to the stack of pilfered items. Rucksack, body armor, leather gloves, satnav, night vision goggles, flashbangs, knives, so many knives. He may be walking into a trap but he’ll be going in prepared and coming out with Bucky. 

He kits himself out far better than the first time. He’s wiser and angrier. 

He switches cars six miles away from the surplus store and plugs in the coordinates. “See you in Pennsylvania, Bucky.” he mutters.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After eating up miles of highway then dirt roads, he finds he’s at a long-abandoned chicken farm edging the mountains of Pennsylvania. He concedes that the long, low buildings would make perfect cover. There are so many abandoned chicken facilities in this part of the country that the free real estate is irresistible. But the coops alone are not large enough for Hydra’s preferred activities, experimentation/torture/training, and Steve heaves a sigh as he knows he’s going underground. “Thanks for the assist, Full Metal Jacket.” He grumbles as he switches on the goggles. “I’ll have Tony make it up to you later.”

He finds the inevitable trap door in the fourth coop. As soon as he descends the rickety stairs, it becomes every other Hydra bunker he’s ever been in. He snaps open the pocket with the flashbangs and slips a knife into each hand. He’s ready for whatever awaits him and more than willing to shed some blood. 

Someone has beat him to it as he realizes he’s following a trail of now browned blood. Heading into or away from the bunker, he can’t tell, but lets it lead him deeper into the depths. 

So far it’s just the usual in terms of Hydra detritus. One room holds dusty monitors and equipment, long unplugged. Another is all file cabinets, drawers open and papers strewn. He takes a picture to remember to send someone in later to take the files. Never know what important tidbit could be left behind. The next room held the clearly more essential monitors and surveillance equipment, since they’d all been smashed rather than merely turned off. A room at the end of the long metal hall is lined with cages of varying sizes and his heart seizes. 

They are thankfully empty.

That’s the end of the corridor and he tugs at his hair in frustration. He’d expected an ambush, but he’s found...nothing. He kicks at the wall with a steel-toed boot and as his head tips back, the goggles illuminate a small square above his head. 

A post-it note? What the fuck. 

It can’t have been here long, to still be sticky in this dank environment. He snatches it down without thinking, the first stupid thing he’s done on this mission. The little yellow paper says, GO DOWN, with an arrow. It’s the same writing as the note from the hospital and his defector theory is gaining ground.

How to go down? He’d looked for more trap doors the entire way, so he must be overlooking a mechanism of some kind. He sticks the note back where it was and slides his hand down the wall, pressing and pulling. The lowest cinderblock wiggles, and he pulls it out. There’s a lever.

He throws the switch and an entire panel of wall rumbles away. “Thanks, defecting Hydra agent, hit me up later.” He says to no one as descends the revealed stairs. Let it not be said that he doesn’t appreciate mission assists.

The steps end in another cinderblock wall, but this time he looks for the little yellow square. It’s up high in the right corner, stuck to a pipe. PULL ME.

Feeling like Alice in Hydraland, he pulls on the pipe. The wall panel moves again, and he continues down the path. He feels something, a presence, that lights up his blood, and he reaches back for the shield before cursing. No matter, he’ll be fine without it. 

He’s only giving the rooms he passes quick glances, growing impatient, and he’s already going to send a team in here to clean it out of anything useful. Each room that doesn’t hold Bucky is just a mounting irritation.

Finally he hits a glassed-in room and knows he’s closer. This is the type of arena Hydra likes to perform their unspeakable “experiments” in, and he hates that it makes him feel like Bucky is near. The first open room is littered with strewn gurneys and operating tables and Steve grinds his teeth. 

He realizes he’d been expecting to find Bucky strapped to a table, just like the first time. While the imagery is nightmarish, the fact that he isn’t here is troubling. Was this all a ruse to get Steve out of the hospital and here? But no one has tried to capture, hurt, or kill him yet. The post-its are the only indication someone has even recently been here. He shoves a gurney as he passes through the room and continues his search. 

More operating like theaters, offices, cages...he grits his jaw again at the implications, but still, no signs of life other than the thrum he feels his own body responding to. A scrap of yellow above his head as he passes through a theater doorway makes his heart jump.

THIS WAY TO YOUR PRIZE feels ominous, and maybe the note leaver isn’t so much on his side. He passes through the swinging double doors and stops short. He’s in a morgue.

His breaths come harsh and fast again as he begins to panic. Did he come all this way just to find Bucky’s body? That’s exactly the type of sick joke Hydra would love. A final insult to Captain America as they suffered defeat. His hands shake as he unlatches door after door of drawers. 

When he flings open the sixth one he almost passes out.

Bucky is there,  _ thankfully, thankfully,  _ but, not  **all** of him.

James Buchanan Barnes  _ 32557038  _ lies on a slab like Steve imagined, but he no longer has arms or legs. As Steve stares gaping at the torso of his best friend, Bucky opens his eyes.

“Buck!” He falls to his knees as he slides the slab all the way out. 

“Bucky, Jesus Christ!” He’s openly sobbing now, hands hovering over the trunk of his friend, afraid to touch, unable not to.

_ “S-Steve?” _

He weeps harder. Bucky is alive and  **knows** him.

“It’s me, it’s me Buck, I’m here.” He can’t not touch his face now, drop his head to his stomach, because  _ what the fuck, what the fuck,  _ he got Bucky back but -

“Steve, this is real?”

“Yeah, Buck, this is real. I’m here, I found you.”

Bucky smiles but then grimaces. “So then…” and his limbs, his nubs, what’s left of them, give a sad little wiggle.

Steve chokes but recovers quickly, for Bucky. “I’m afraid so but it doesn’t matter-”

“The fuck you mean it doesn’t matter! They finally did it. I’m not even a person anymore!”

“Bucky, that’s not -”

_ “Steve.”  _ He levels a piercing gaze at him. He is crying. “Steve, there’s nothing left of me. At least they brought you to me, let me see you again, one last time.”

“Bucky, I  _ found you,  _ you’re gonna be okay now. You know me!”

Bucky’s mouth twists into a bitter smile. “I wondered why they didn’t put me back on ice when they grabbed me, when they -” another little wiggle, “but now, I know it’s because they wanted to make you do it.”

“What are you talking about, Buck?” Steve cups his face and rubs his cheek against his. “I’m here now, you broke free of Hydra, and-”

“Not all of me. They won, Steve.”

“How can you say that, you broke free, you saved me, and now Hydra and Shield are gone, someone led me to you and-”

“To kill me, Steve!” Bucky shrieks. “They led you here to kill me! You know it’s what you have to do.”

Steve recoils, shaking his head frantically. “Bucky, no, you know I can’t do that.”

“You have to, Steve. Look at me! I’m less than the Asset now, I’m - I’m not even a body. I’m barely a thing. I couldn’t do anything but lie here and wait for death and I’m  _ goddam grateful  _ that it came in the form of you!” 

“Bucky…” He can’t stand it anymore, he tips the body of his friend toward his, half-sitting on the slab. “Bucky, you’re wrong. I know you’ve been through… a lot, jesus, that doesn’t cover it  _ at all  _ but, you’re not dead. You’re not. You’re alive and I’ve got you now and I’m never gonna let you go, okay? I don’t care. I don’t care what happened or what you look like or what you can do. All I care about is that you’re here, with me, and you know me now. Don’t you see how extraordinary that is?”

Then he wipes Bucky’s tears away for him, because he can’t  _ oh God he can’t.  _

It’s not like Steve thinks things are great but he  _ has Bucky now _ and that’s literally all that matters to him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Bucky sniffs. “What are you gonna do, carry me around for the rest of my life, and feed me and dress me and help me take a shit? God Steve, I can’t, I can’t live like that.”

“Shh, Buck, you won’t have to, I promise. Think about your arm.” 

“The one that was made by unethical Nazi scientists? Unless you got a mad scientist in your back pocket…”

Steve grins at him, elated. “As a matter of fact, I do. And for the record, I would carry you anywhere and wipe your ass forever. I just got you back. You can’t expect me to let you go.”

“Steve, you stubborn son of a bitch. I know what you’re trying to do, but no one has that kind of tech. My arm was the best Hydra had after decades. Maybe I can get another but that still means I can’t walk or - why are you smiling, you crazy bastard?”

“No one, huh? How about Howard Stark’s kid?”

“Howard...had a kid?”

“Uh huh. His name is Tony and he’s even smarter and crazier and richer than Howard and he’s my friend. He’ll fix you right up. With limbs even better than the arm. Bucky, I promise. Just please, don’t give up. Do you trust me?”

Bucky barks a laugh as Steve wipes his tears again. “I don’t have much choice, do I? Can’t kill myself and you’re not gonna do it for me.”

“Oh, Buck. I know you feel hopeless now, but you’ll see. I’m not lying. But I’m not gonna do anything against your will. So, will you please come with me?”

Bucky sighs. “If I say no?”

“I won’t make you do something you won’t. You’ve had enough of that. But I won’t leave you either. So I guess we both die here then.”

He huffs in frustration. “You’d do it, too. Fine, Stevie, I’ll come with you. But that’s all I’m agreeing to for now.” There’s the blinding smile that was one of the first things he remembered.

“Thank you, Buck. You won’t regret it. But first -” He gently clasps Bucky by the shoulder stumps and kisses him. Thoroughly. When he pulls back, they’re both panting. 

“See, there’s more stuff like that to look forward to. As long as you’re alive, Bucky, that’s all I need. I don’t care what’s missing. Just need your head. Hell, I’ll take your brain in a jar. I love you. Now let’s get out of here”

Bucky laughs against him. “You crazy fool. I love you too.”

“That’s all I need. Now, let me get you off this thing, okay?”

Bucky nods. Steve carefully lifts him to his chest, but as soon as his torso clears the slab, there’s a loud click. He freezes. 

Waiting beneath Bucky is a square of paper like the one in the hospital. He shifts his Bucky bundle so that he can open it. “Oh fuck.”

“Steve, what?”

“We gotta go, now.” He crumples the note in his fist and pockets it. At the same time, everything around them begins to shake. 

“Steve-”

“It’s a self destruct sequence, alright? It started when I lifted you-”

“-I  _ told  _ you to kill me-”

“-like that was ever gonna happen.” Dirt and small pieces of debris are coming down around them now. “Shit, I’m gonna get us both out of here. But, forgive me, Buck.”

“What? Why?”

Before he can protest, Steve stuffs him as gently as he can into the rucksack. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not dignified, but just hang on. Here we go.” He swings the sack onto his back and edges out from the morgue. He’s hit the second level when the place comes down in earnest.

He’s driven to his knees but manages to thrust an arm out above them, holding the sheet of ceiling metal off. Bucky groans from the pack. 

“Buck, you okay?” He twists to open the pack, but another shudder closes off the route in front of them. He’ll have to punch his way out. 

He pummels his way through the blocked hall, inching forward on his knees. He’s only cleared a small hole when everything shifts again. “Shit, fuck, tell me you’re okay back there, Bucky.”

“Alive.” he mutters. 

Steve creeps forward again, slithering through the opening. He gasps, just barely managing to squeeze through, acquiring cuts from the rubble despite his thich tac gear. He wishes again for his shield, to help dig them out, to place over Bucky. He grunts and continues using his hands.

“Steve, wait, stop!” Bucky cries from the bag. 

Steve pops them through into a cavern that looks to be lined solely with rebar, chunks of concrete, and broken glass. “Are you hurt?”

“Steve, come on, you gotta leave me here, I’m an albatross. You’ll be lucky to make it out yourself.”

“We’ve been through this. Now stop distracting me, augh!” He yelps as the sharp detritus cuts deeply into his hands and knees. He can feel the razor-edged hunks tearing open the wounds again and again. He slogs forward, leaving a wake of blood and skin. 

The narrow passage collapses farther and he rolls to his side, an attempt to shield Bucky. “We’re almost out.” He wheezes hopefully. 

A pained moan rises from the sack and he knows Bucky’s been hit. There isn’t enough room to check on him. Steve powers on, through twisted, poking, bars of metal and ground glass and  _ how are there none of the softer elements of the base lining their way?  _

Finally, finally, he manages to break through to open air. He can’t feel Bucky shifting at all. “We made it out, Buck. Just hold on a while longer.” he pleads. He flops through, wriggling like a fish, then collapses to his belly to breathe. Bucky is a negligible weight on top of him. 

He squirms out of the pack and opens the flap. Bucky’s head pops out. “You…”  _ pant pant  _ “...okay?” he heaves.

“‘M’okay. You?” asks Bucky’s head.

“Never...been better.” Steve grins and passes out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After an initial period of elation at them both making it out, Bucky sinks into a funk. 

Despite the phalanx of doctors that attended to him and the stunning display of technology in the tower, it’s clear that he doubts Tony’s ability to equip him with four adequate limbs. 

He will only let Steve attend to his needs, which Steve  _ totally does not mind  _ but if he’s to keep his promise then Bucky has to let Tony examine him. Ultimately it’s his innate stubbornness that gives Steve his idea. 

He’s bitching about being fed (while letting Steve do it) when Steve remarks, casually, “You know, Buck, if you would let Tony make you just one arm, it could even be the the left, since you’re used to that, then you’d be able to feed yourself when you wanted and wouldn’t have to wait for me to do it.”

Bucky grumbles an inaudible response. 

“What was that?” He tries to keep the grin out of his voice.

“Fine. I’ll let him look at me. But not the left arm, I mean it, Steve.”

“You got it.” He knows once Bucky gets a load of Stark's abilities, it will be a quick slope to being fully retrofitted.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky is quickly adept at using his cyborg arm, but still relies on Steve for anything that requires mobility or multiple limbs. Honestly Steve had expected him to be all in once he saw how capable and intuitive his arm tech was. But old horrors die hard and Barnes is unwilling to undergo any more medical procedures. 

Steve is lifting him into their bed one night when he decides to push for more. “You’re happy with your new arm, aren’t you, Buck?”

He hums noncommittally. 

“I was just thinking, if you’d let Tony make you some legs, you could go everywhere with me. I know you hate when we have to be apart and so do I. How ‘bout it, nice new pair of legs? You see what Tony can do. Maybe you’d even be faster than me, huh? I’ll be right here next to you the whole time.”

“Faster than you?” There’s the gleam in his eyes that Steve’s missed. “How can I pass that up?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky’s not faster than Steve with his new legs, but he can almost keep up, which is nothing short of a miracle.

“Better, faster, stronger.” Tony quips. “You gonna let me at that last arm now, champ?”

“Actually…” Bucky responds, and Steve’s head snaps up with excitement. “I had some thoughts about that. We’ve gone this far, it’s stupid to be precious about one arm.” Tony’s excitement is palpable now too.

“I agree to the final arm. But on one condition. I want you to replace it with this.” He drops a schematic on the table in front of Tony. “My old arm was a weapon, but only at close range. This way no one will ever be able to get close enough to hurt us again.” He’s looking at Steve when he says that.

“Dude, are you kidding? Absolutely I can do this. But why stop at a machine gun? Your limbs are fully bionic and detachable. I can make you a flamethrower, a rocket launcher...this is gonna be great!” 

Bucky smiles.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Winter Soldier was a terrifying force to be reckoned with. But Bucky Barnes, with his heart and mind and extraordinary limbs is resplendent. Steve has never loved him more.

After long weeks of training and adapting to his new body Bucky joined them in laying waste to the final known ( _ but there’s always another head) _ Hydra base, insultingly close to the one where Steve had found him. He had delighted in using his flamethower arm attachment to torch the place they had stripped it.

When they return home, the second they’re back in their rooms, Bucky is all over Steve. “That felt great. I love you. I want to show you how much.” 

“I already know you love me, Bucky, you don’t gotta do anything you don’t want.”

“Can it, Steve, you think I haven’t wanted to do this since I first saw your face in that bunker? Now I finally can.” He kisses Steve deeply and tells him, “strip.”

“You’re not gonna, you know?” he asks carefully, gesturing to Bucky’s incendiary arm as they shuck their boots. 

Bucky’s grin is pure sex. “Nahh...I kinda want to, with it? It did such a good job today. Unless...it bothers you?”

Steve stops in detaching his pants to reach out. He cautiously brings the weaponized limb to his lips and kisses the tip. “No part of you could ever bother me, Bucky.”

“Fuuuuck.” Bucky pants and claws at his own clothes.

Steve chuckles and begins removing his uniform. He’s got his top layer off when Bucky grabs him with both limbs and tugs. “Not fast enough. I want you. Now. I feel like I’m finally free. Of them. I can hold you and love you just like we used to. Well, maybe not exactly like we used to.” He jokes as his right hand tears through Steve’s shirt while pulling it off. 

“I dunno, we’ve torn each other’s clothes off plenty.” He shrugs out of the scraps of shirt and turns back to his eager partner. “Now where were we?”

Bucky laughs and pushes Steve back against the wall. “I think we were about to fuck.”

“Oh were we?” Steve grins and dives back in for Bucky’s neck. “Lead the way.”

Bucky shoves Steve toward the bed with both arms. Steve flies back, flailing into the night stand and knocking the lamp to the floor. It shatters.

“Shit, sorry, guess I don’t know my own strength with these yet.”

“No, it’s okay.” Steve laughs as he sits up against the headboard. “Kinda nice to be thrown around by you again, you know?”

Bucky laughs happily and crawls up to meet Steve. “Yeah? Let’s see what else we can do.” He straddles Steve’s lap, leaning in to kiss him again. They make out, slowly, as Steve carefully fingers Bucky the way he always liked, marveling at the fact they get to do this again. He uses way too much lube and makes a mess of them.

“Mmm Buck...augh!” Steve groans suddenly, and not in the sex way. 

“What? What happened?”

“I don’t believe it...your legs...squeezing...it actually hurts.” 

“There I go again! Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

“Just surprised me, is all. Don’t worry, I can take it.” He moves one hand to stroke Bucky’s cock, clasping his torch arm with the other.. 

“Ahh, Steve, yes!” He cries, clamping down with his legs again. 

Steve just keens and strokes him faster. “Good, Bucky, yeah, that’s - holyfuckingshit!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Bucky yelps. 

Steve is shaking off his hand. There’s a sear of burnt skin up his palm and across his fingers. 

“Goddammit! I guess I can’t control these fucking things when i’m worked up. Gimme, Steve.” He sucks the burnt fingers into his mouth while Steve hisses.

“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s kinda hot that you can’t control yourself, but I don’t relish being set on fire before I can make you come. It’ll be okay, Buck, just roll over, I'll take care of us.”

  
  
  


“No, I-I need to be on top, Steve. Even though I know it’s you, I’m not...ready to be on my back during.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. So what do you want to do?”

“Just...get these things off me. Let me ride you.”

“What? Are you sure, you want me to take them all off? Won’t you feel…”

“Please.” Bucky begs. “You helped me get them, and you were right. Now, help me get them off, Stevie. Wanna...wanna fuck properly. Don’t wanna have to worry or hold back. I know you’ll take care of me.”

_ “God, Buck,  _ that’s...yes, of course, hang on.”

Bucky groans as Steve unscrews each prosthetic. “Actually feels good to let them breathe.” He wiggles his stumps, but there’s nothing sad about the movement or moment. All he feels is an overriding sense of release and trust in Steve’s arms. Steve’s answering smile tells him he feels the same.

“Okay, here we go, Buck, are you ready?”

“Been ready, Steve.” he groans. 

Steve makes sure to keep eye contact as he lifts Bucky onto his lap, sheathing his cock in him. They both moan. They gasp into each other’s mouths for a minute until Bucky gives him the okay to move. It feels glorious.

Bucky had been a little worried that he’d feel like a living sex toy, objectified, being manipulated on Steve’s cock, but he feels only pleasure and the love that Steve pours into him every way he can. 

“Anytime, Buck.” Steve is growling. “Anytime, any way you want to do it, I’m here.” He thrusts up into Bucky while pulling him down, slamming their bodies together explosively.

“God, Steve, do it, as hard as you can.”

Steve doesn’t insult him by asking if he’s sure. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve holds Bucky against him as they both come down. “That...was amazing. Thank you.”

“Thank  _ you.  _ Wasn’t sure how I was gonna feel, without them, but, it was great. You were great.”

“I meant it, Bucky Barnes. I love you and I’m so happy you came back to me. Anytime, anywhere, any way. But…”

“I love you, Steve. You saved me. Again. But?”

“But are you sure that you’re okay with doing it like this? I don’t want you to feel...diminished. Or overpowered.”

“Steve, you sweet, gorgeous man. I love you. I didn’t feel any of those things, because I was with you.”

“Are you averse to us learning how to do it? With them on? Because I want every option to be open to us.”

Bucky smiles, and it is calm and hopeful and all kinds of things he never thought he’d feel again. “That’s, gonna take a lot of trial and error and practice, you know.” The gleam in his eyes is all pre-war Bucky, letting Steve know how much he looks forward to it.

Steve smiles back. They may have been through hell but they’ve emerged on the other side and they are together and that's all that matters. “Good thing I’m up for the challenge.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
